


The Rest Of Our Lives Will Do

by AtropaAzraelle (Polyoxyethylene)



Series: Of Walls and Nerds [13]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Deep Throating, M/M, always with the diabetes warning, guided masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9640469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyoxyethylene/pseuds/AtropaAzraelle
Summary: At a party Ignis gets really rather drunk, and does something he had to be really rather drunk to do. Gladio gets him back to the hotel room afterwards, and a disinhibited Ignis makes for a fun night.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is where I officially acknowledge that this is moving away from canon compliance. While there is nothing currently overt, situations in this and in future fics may be ones that did not, would not, or can not take place within the confines of canon. While I intend to keep all characters and interactions as true to canon as possible, suffice it to say that we all know that the thing Ignis did in this fic has certainly never happened in canon.
> 
> I hope everyone can continue to enjoy this series as they have up to now, thank you very much for sticking with me so far. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy this.

Ignis somehow managed to fumble the hotel room door open one handed and all but dragged Gladio through it. Closing it again was something he left to Gladio, clearly deciding his hands were much better employed unfastening Gladio's waistcoat and untucking the shirt from his trousers.

Gladio couldn't help his grin, taking care of the door and watching Ignis work at his clothes with enthusiasm. Ignis had been drinking. Gladio hadn't realised just how much Ignis had been drinking until he'd done what he'd done, and by then it was a bit too late to stop him. Not that Gladio would have.

“Hey,” Gladio said, running his fingers into Ignis's hair, “how does Ignis Amicitia sound?”

Ignis found bare skin and ran his hands under Gladio's shirt, fingers raking across flesh possessively. “Like your father having an aneurysm,” he replied.

Gladio caught sight of pale green eyes flicking all over his form as if Ignis couldn't get a good enough look at the whole of him at once and had to take him in piece by piece. Gladio had been forced to get dressed twice today because Ignis had taken one look at him in his formal suit and promptly divested him of half of it. He was almost certainly planning the second act to that performance now. “Nah,” Gladio said, tucking his fingers under Ignis's chin and making him look up, “that sounded like this.”

He leaned in, and kissed Ignis in perfect recreation of how Ignis had kissed him earlier on the dancefloor, in front of Noct, in front of the guests, and King Regis, and in front of Clarus Amicitia. The kiss was sweet, and deep, and possessive. His tongue didn't invade Ignis's mouth, it requested entry, licking at his lips softly. Ignis met Gladio's tongue with his own in soft, slow presses that built up the fire Ignis had lit earlier until Ignis's fingers were digging into the backs of Gladio's shoulderblades and Gladio's fingers were growing tight in Ignis's hair.

Ignis parted first, his breath heavy and pupils blown. His eyes were just a little unfocussed, despite the fact he was wearing his glasses. “Gladio,” he said, “I am really _very_ drunk.”

“I can tell,” Gladio replied, unable and unwilling to help the grin that crossed his face.

“You should fuck me while I'm still conscious,” Ignis said, and Gladio felt the ripple down his spine at hearing Ignis swear, “you can propose in the morning.”

Gladio laughed. “When I propose, you'll know it,” he said. “It won't be like this.”

“I wouldn't mind if it was,” Ignis murmured, and then leaned up to take Gladio's mouth again.

Gladio smiled into it, putting his hands on Ignis's shoulders and guiding him back towards the bed. “You're drunk right now,” Gladio murmured, pushing Ignis's jacket off his shoulders. It forced Ignis to draw his hands back out from under Gladio's shirt, and he dug his fingertips in against Gladio's skin, raking over the flesh as he did. “Your judgement's impaired.”

Ignis dropped his jacket on the floor and tugged at Gladio's belt, pulling the leather free of the buckle swiftly. “Not impaired,” he retorted, “just dis-inhibited.”

“Yeah,” Gladio conceded, his fingers working at Ignis's own waistcoat and the shirt underneath it, “if you managed to say that, you can't be that drunk.”

Ignis moved, pressing forward and up until his mouth was against Gladio's again. “Less talking, more undressing,” he purred, his teeth catching against Gladio's bottom lip.

“Yes, captain,” Gladio replied, with a predatory grin. He caught Ignis's wrists in his hands and pushed him back and down against the bed. Ignis sat down heavily, and unsteadily, and Gladio knelt down over him. Ignis caught Gladio's shirt in his fingers and tugged him down until their lips met again, and Gladio pushed him back against the bed as he kissed him with deep fervour. When Ignis pulled his mouth away to catch his breath Gladio moved his attention to Ignis's jaw, and throat. The memory of Ignis's hands in his hair, his words, 'We'll pay for this tomorrow, so let's make it worth it,' as he'd pulled Gladio down in front of everyone, a declaration of love, of defiance, burned in Gladio's heart. He'd never loved Ignis more than in that moment.

He returned that sentiment, of love, and possession, and defiance with a sucking kiss to Ignis's throat, his teeth grazing over skin. Ignis gasped, his head arching back, exposing more of his neck, and Gladio took advantage, moving down to repeat the motion at Ignis's collarbone, where the mark would peek out through his shirt unless Ignis buttoned it all the way up. There would be no hiding the mark on his neck, however, and after tonight everyone would know who had left it there.

He stripped Ignis of his shirt, leaving that and the waistcoat ignored on the bed as he began to kiss his way down Ignis's chest and stomach. Fingers worked their way into his hair as Gladio unfastened Ignis's belt and tugged his trousers down too. “I knew this suit would look better on the floor,” he murmured, as Ignis toed his shoes off and rolled his hips to let Gladio peel the last of his clothes away. He pressed a kiss to the inside of Ignis's thigh, spreading his legs to kneel between his knees. He didn't bother to tease, taking Ignis's cock in hand, and then into his mouth.

“Gladio,” Ignis groaned, fingers growing tight in Gladio's hair as Gladio sucked, and then pressed forward and swallowed, taking Ignis in to the hilt. Ignis's hips rolled, and he groaned again. Dis-inhibited was definitely the word, Gladio thought, swallowing around Ignis's cock again and drawing that noise from him once more. Ignis usually tried to hold his noises back, it took work to make him drop his guard enough to make him let them go.

Gladio loved when Ignis was noisy. He sounded beautiful coming undone under Gladio's hands and mouth. He sounded divine crying Gladio's name as Gladio fucked him into the bed, decorum discarded on the floor with his clothes. The only thing better than the sound of Ignis crying his name was the feel of Ignis's fingers pulling at his hair, clawing at his back.

He sucked until Ignis's noises took on a note of urgency, and then he pulled away and kissed upwards along his stomach. Ignis's fingers released in his hair and Gladio lifted himself up on his hands over Ignis to look down at him.

By the Goddess he looked beautiful. Hair mussed, skin flushed, glasses askew. Ignis's breath was short, his lips parted with his soft panting as he looked up at Gladio. Gladio examined him, memorised him, this scene, from Ignis's freckles to the colour of his lips and the flash of white teeth behind them, and the wide blackness of his pupils darkening his pretty green eyes. He leaned down again, and pressed a deep, bruising kiss to Ignis's mouth, refusing to let him recover his breath, pressing him back into the bed with the force of it. Then he peeled himself away, unbuttoning the rest of his clothes and stripping them off. He let them join Ignis's on the floor, and then crawled onto the bed, over him.

“Glasses,” he scolded, tugging them off Ignis's face and reaching to drop them on the bedside cabinet.

“Pardon me for wanting to admire the view with crystal clarity,” Ignis replied, putting his hands to Gladio's hips.

Gladio grinned broadly. “You'd be pissed if we broke them,” he pointed out.

“I have spares,” Ignis replied, as Gladio pressed his mouth in to Ignis's throat once more. The mark he'd left was darkening already, tiny blood vessels ruptured under the skin, and Gladio kissed it tenderly.

He hissed when he felt Ignis's hand on his cock, stroking him as if Ignis was familiarising himself with the length and weight of it after too long away. As if he hadn't sunk to his knees and sucked Gladio off against the hotel room door a few hours ago. “Eager,” Gladio teased.

“Very,” Ignis agreed. He sank the fingers of his free hand into Gladio's hair and tugged him down for another kiss. “Don't bother with a condom,” he murmured, his lips against Gladio's mouth.

“You sure?” Gladio asked, even though the words alone had sent their message directly to Gladio's cock. He loved taking Ignis without a condom. His heat was more present, the softness of his flesh, the slickness of the movement was so much harder to resist. Ignis got a kick out of it too, he knew, out of the way it reduced Gladio to an incoherent, affectionate mess, swallowed by the feeling of Ignis's body under and around him.

“It's not _my_ bed,” Ignis answered, with a smirk that went straight to Gladio's groin.

Gladio pressed in to take another kiss, and then moved up the bed as Ignis did so he could reach into the bedside drawer and retrieve the lubricant. Ignis was nothing if not prepared, and it was rare they had a night they didn't sleep together, so even if Gladio hadn't seen him put it there this afternoon, he'd have expected to find lubricant waiting for them both anyway.

Ignis took it from him and uncapped the tube, squirting a generous amount into the palm of his hand before he dropped the tube on the pillow next to him, flicking the cap back in place with his thumb as an afterthought. Gladio kissed Ignis again as a warm hand, slick with lubricant, wrapped around his cock and stroked. He hooked one of Ignis's knees up by his hip, and felt Ignis hook his heel around the back of his thigh.

Ignis's hand fell away from his cock when Gladio growled into his mouth. Gladio was hard, and he ached, but the moment was too good to let it slip away in haste. He took Ignis's hand in his own, still slick with lubricant, and guided it between Ignis's own legs, and down.

Ignis got the idea quickly, and he let Gladio guide him to play his fingers over himself. He gave a small gasp against Gladio's mouth as Gladio pressed his fingers against Ignis's own, urging Ignis in his turn to press his fingers inside himself. Gladio shifted his grip, curling his fingers around Ignis's palm as he began to guide the movement of Ignis's hand so that he thrusted his fingers gently in and out of himself with the same careful pace and intensity of Gladio's mouth against his own.

Ignis murmured against the kiss, soft and urgent little noises of pleasure in time with the press and push of fingers. He pulled away from Gladio's mouth a moment later, turning his head to utter a soft, needy groan against Gladio's ear, “Gladio.” It was both a statement, and a request. He needed more. Gladio nipped at his jaw and tugged his hand away, settling Ignis's hand around Ignis's own cock instead, and then turned his own fingers to the work of thrusting carefully inside him. Ignis stroked himself, groaning at the sensation, and Gladio allowed himself to enjoy the look on Ignis's face.

“Do you want me?” He asked, pressing his fingers hard inside Ignis, and then drawing back out tortuously slow.

“Yes,” Ignis's voice had a bite of pleasure to it, a rise in pitch that was unmistakeable.

“Forever?” Gladio whispered, pressing in hard again so that Ignis jolted and gasped.

“I already have that,” Ignis replied, finding Gladio's eyes with his own. “Would you give me longer?”

He must be _really_ drunk, Gladio thought, deep under the lust, and love, and nearly painful need to be as close to this man as it was possible to get. “I will give you every second,” he drove his fingers in again so that Ignis arched under him, “every minute,” he drew his fingers back and pressed his lips to Ignis's jaw, “every hour,” he shifted slightly so he could catch Ignis's eyes again, and the haze of love and lust that clouded his expression, “every day of the rest of eternity, and it won't be enough for me to love you as much as I want to.”

Ignis smiled at him, a soft, unguarded look on his face. “Just the rest of our lives will do,” he said, softly.

Gladio stared at him, while stars died and gods were born, and then pressed forward in an urgent kiss. His tongue found Ignis's and he lost himself to it for a while, just the press and slide of lips and tongue, Ignis letting him in and then taking in his own turn so it was like a dance, like a duet, like their whole relationship.

Then Ignis tugged his hips in with his legs and Gladio pulled his fingers free to grasp his cock and guide himself inside Ignis. Ignis growled with satisfaction against his mouth, and Gladio had to take a moment to break the kiss and gasp as the heat of Ignis's body enveloped and overwhelmed him.

Ignis twisted his fingers into Gladio's hair, tightened his legs around his hips, and tugged him in until there was nowhere they could possibly be touching that they weren't. “When you're ready,” he said, his voice deepened with lust.

Gladio looked down at him, and used one hand to tug Ignis's hips into the best possible position. Then he dragged Ignis's hand away from his cock and pinned it to the bed by his wrist before he began to _fuck_ him.

Ignis's reaction was instant, the strike of Gladio's cock against his prostate making him yelp. His wrist twisted in Gladio's hand but didn't pull free, and his fingers tightened in Gladio's hair. His hips rolled, and his legs pulled Gladio in again on every thrust.

“I could watch you like this forever,” Gladio growled, as Ignis arched under him beautifully and cried his name. Ignis was past the point of coherent reply, but his hand dropped from Gladio's hair to his shoulder, and his fingers dug in against Gladio's skin.

Gladio thrust harder when he felt himself struggling to hold on, and he wrapped his hand around Ignis's cock and stroked him with the same urgent intensity as the movement of his hips. Ignis cried out, swore, and then cried Gladio's name as he came in Gladio's hand. He arched under Gladio and tightened around him as he came, and then Gladio came too, deep inside Ignis, tucking his face against Ignis's throat.

They stilled as their orgasm ebbed away, and Gladio took a moment to scrape his mind back together from the far corners of the room before he pulled out of Ignis, and then cuddled him against himself. Ignis wrapped his arms around Gladio's waist and tucked his face in against his shoulder with a sigh.

“You want a shower?” Gladio asked. Ignis nearly always did after sex, especially after they'd foregone a condom.

Ignis murmured, thoughtfully, but sleepily. “In the morning,” he decided. “Don't you dare move.”

Gladio chuckled, and cuddled him closer. He pressed a kiss to Ignis's hair before he replied, “Yes sir.”

*****

Ignis's head pounded. The world seemed painful, and the sound of Gladio softly snoring down his ear wasn't helping. His mouth felt drier than the Dalmascan Estersands. He moved, and then groaned because his body protested against the idea.

Gladio's snoring stopped, and arms tightened around him. “Nope.”

“I need a drink.”

It took a second, but the arms retreated from around him, and Ignis slid from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He desperately needed a shower, but he also couldn't face the idea of having water pounding down on his head, and face. Instead, he used the toilet, and then went back into the room to retrieve a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

Ignis drained half of it before he got back into bed, ignoring the state of it, and found himself dragged in against Gladio's welcoming heat once more. Gladio murmured happily, and nuzzled his nose into Ignis's hair.

“Gladio?” A grunt was the only response Ignis got, but it was enough. “Did I really make a point of kissing you in front of your father last night?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.”

“And his Majesty,” Gladio added, cheerful despite his obvious grogginess, “and his Highness, and the Marshal--”

“Yes, I get the idea.”

“Regretting it?”

Ignis thought about that, and then shifted, tucking himself in as close as he could get to Gladio. He covered Gladio's hand with his own, and pulled it up over his chest, so their twined fingers rested near Ignis's heart. “No.”

“Good.”

Ignis smiled, and relaxed. “We should make the most of the peace while it lasts, however.”

Gladio murmured agreement. “I'll help you shower later.”


	2. Part Two: Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wake the next morning and there is music to be faced, and fallout to be dealt with, and the people they love to speak to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't bring myself to leave the last one there, so SURPRISE. There is no pornographic material in this chapter, however.

Ignis sat primly in a chair, elbow resting on the morning table provided in their room. His head still pounded, but two painkillers and extra water had done their work to ease it to a dull throbbing. He had felt better, but he had most certainly felt worse, too. Messages had come through on his phone, one after another, most of the morning.

Gladio paused to press a kiss to Ignis's cheek as he passed, a gesture which Ignis met with a slight tilt of his head so that Gladio could reach. Then he put his foot up on the other chair and started pulling his laces tight. Ignis looked him over, admiring the line of the man's body before he said, simply, “Noct is awake.”

“Yeah?” Gladio asked, fixing his lace into a bow and pulling that tight with the sound of cord dragging over cord. “What's he had to say?”

Ignis smiled, faintly. “He asked how long it's been going on,” he said. Gladio dropped his foot to the floor, and then picked up the other to fix his laces on that one, too. “I told him since he was fifteen. I got back a 'wow'.” Gladio made an amused noise. “Then he asked me when we plan to wed.”

Ignis saw Gladio's grin even though his face was turned to his shoe. “What'd you tell him?”

“That such things are not possible in Lucis at this time,” Ignis said, and then placed his phone on the table and slid it towards Gladio. “That was his response.”

Gladio looked down at the phone, and then stood properly and picked it up. He saw the last few exchanges.

>> Whens the wedding  
>>> A union such as ours would not be legally recognised in Lucis at this time.  
>> Yea but 1 day Ill b king

Gladio grinned broadly and passed Ignis his phone back. “Least someone's rooting for us.”  
Ignis's phone gave the tiny vibration to notify him of an additional message to a conversation, and he looked at his screen. “Just don't invite Nel,” he read aloud.

Gladio laughed aloud at that. Nel had made an impression last night, not least due to being one of those responsible for plying Ignis so heavily with wine. She'd given the same treatment to Cor Leonis, and a few of their guests who were of a more uptight nature, as if she'd taken it upon herself to ensure everyone loosened up for an evening. “I dunno,” he said, “I think we owe Nel.”

“You certainly do,” Ignis said, adjusting his collar pointedly. The red love bite Gladio had left him the night before bloomed, purpling and obvious against Ignis's pale skin, riding just above the reach of his collar.

Gladio grinned and hooked a finger against Ignis's collar, tugging it back into its usual position. “Let them see it,” he said.

“We gave everyone quite enough of a show last night,” Ignis replied.

Gladio's phone buzzed, the vibration rattling it across the bedside cabinet, and he gave it a brief glance. Ignis turned his attention to it as well. While Ignis's phone had received some messages of support, Gladio's father would not be contacting _Ignis_ when he finally decided to voice his opinion.

Gladio moved, and picked his phone up, thumbing through it. “Iris,” he said, after a moment, tension slipping from his shoulders again, and a small smile crossed his lips. “She thinks we're a cute couple.”

“I was always under the impression she knew regardless,” Ignis said.

Gladio shrugged, “I never exactly said,” he answered. “I figured Noct knew too.”

“I expect he did,” Ignis said, softly, “and last night was merely confirmation.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said, “for everyone.”

Ignis smiled. It was a faint, sad smile as his phone buzzed again with another incoming message. “The important people seem happy for us,” he said, quietly. Noctis, and Iris had voiced their support. There was no word yet from Prompto, so either Prompto didn't yet know or was not yet awake, but in any event Ignis didn't expect any forceful objections to them bringing their relationship into the open to come from that direction. He couldn't remember if Prompto had been present when he'd kissed Gladio. He couldn't remember if Prompto had been present when Gladio had _started it_ , pulling Ignis onto the dancefloor despite his protests at how it would appear, holding him close and whispering that he didn't care who was watching into Ignis's ear. Ignis could still remember the uncomfortable, stoic gaze of Clarus Amicitia on them both, eclipsing his recollection of how his Majesty, or the rest of the room had reacted.

Even if he hadn't decided that hell could take them all, that he was tired of standing in the shadows and trying to fight clandestinely to keep others from interfering, that here and now he may as well announce it to the world and declare his affections for Gladio the same way he had first declared them _to_ Gladio. Even if he hadn't decided, in one carefully considered moment, to defy everyone and pulled Gladio down to meet his mouth, they'd have faced judgement today just for the dance. “We'll have to face the rest sooner or later,” he said.

Ignis looked at his phone then, and checked his new notification. He smiled at it. “Iris wants to know if she can still be a bridesmaid,” he said.

“Don't see why not,” Gladio said, with a grin and a shrug.

“Difficult to have a bridesmaid without a bride,” Ignis said, “or a wedding.”

“Groomsmaid then,” Gladio replied, ignoring the rest of Ignis's statement as if he hadn't heard it.

Ignis typed in a response and sent it. A moment later, Gladio's phone buzzed. He looked at it, read the message, and replied instantly, sending it off and then turning to Ignis and saying, simply, “Snitch.”

“You haven't,” Ignis replied, with a smirk. “You were quite clear about that last night.”

“Yeah, but setting my sister on me over it's a bit harsh,” Gladio complained. He took a step nearer to Ignis and held his chin in his fingers, urging Ignis to look up at him for all Ignis didn't need the encouragement. “When I propose to you, you won't be drunk,” he said, “and we won't be dealing with all this.”

Ignis smiled at him. “Take your time,” he said, “I'm in no rush.”

Gladio pressed his lips to Ignis's forehead, and then pulled away, letting go of his chin. “I've got a lot to try and fit into just the rest of our lives,” he said.

“You're doing admirably so far,” Ignis answered, reaching up to run his own fingers under Gladio's chin, brushing over coarse, short hair and leading him in to a sweet kiss.

Gladio's phone rang, and went disregarded as Gladio opted instead to lean in and take a deeper kiss, his tongue finding Ignis's own and meeting it with soft presses and the brush of lips. It continued to ring as Ignis slipped his hand around the back of Gladio's neck as he tilted his own head and took the kiss deeper still, so it lit fires in his core and made his skin sing with the possibilities.

Then Gladio pulled away, and Ignis let him retreat so he could answer his phone at last, which he did with a nervous swallow. “Hello?” Ignis watched as Gladio listened, and said, “Dad,” in acknowledgement. He scowled into the phone, as an indistinct voice spoke into his ear, and then he agreed, “Yeah, we do.” There was another, brief pause before he said, “I'll be there in an hour.”  
Gladio hung the phone up, and dropped it back on the table. “He wants to talk to me face to face,” he said.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Ignis asked. Facing his father was going to be harrowing. They were the subject of rumour in the Citadel, _had_ been the subject of rumour in the Citadel, and when Gladio's father had got wind of the rumours he'd challenged Gladio about them. At first, he'd urged Gladio to be more discreet in his affairs. A youthful dalliance with someone of the same sex was considered preferable to the accidental production of bastards, but such dalliances were kept quiet. As one grew, however, boys that were becoming men were expected to shrug off those relationships with the last of puberty, and submit themselves to fully fledged heterosexuality.

Gladio had _not_ grown out of Ignis as expected, and that was where distant disapproval had started to turn into actual pressure. Gladio, as he had been reminded multiple times, was expected to produce progeny of his own and continue the Amicitia line. Ignis in his own turn faced similar pressure, but not to the same extent because the world at large viewed Ignis as an extension of Noct, and it was assumed that if he failed to marry now, he would marry once Noctis was securely wed and producing the next generation of the Lucis Caelum line.

Ignis had suggested, once, that Gladio simply marry and be done with it. Produce heirs as he was expected, and continue the Amicitia line. Ignis would love him no less if he did.

Gladio had simply grown angry with the suggestion. It wasn't merely the matter of unfaithfulness to Ignis, or the sense of disloyalty to their love that the very notion gave him, but the implication that he should wed and bed some poor woman under false pretences, his heart never belonging to her, all so he could produce children to quell other people's concerns. If he married, he had declared, he would marry Ignis and no other, and to hell with his father, and the Citadel, and all the rest of Lucis if they didn't like it because Gladio was not the only one capable of continuing the line. Iris had a mind and a heart of her own, and was not some political pawn to be married off to someone else's family to produce their children for them; she too was an Amicitia, and as stubborn, and strong, and proud as one.

Ignis had conceded the point, and found the sickening twist in his chest abated.

Gladio looked undecided, and Ignis offered, “I'll come with you, but you can decide when we get there if I come inside or not.”

Gladio swallowed, and nodded mutely, looking immensely grateful.

 

The bike was still terrifying when Ignis was in the later stages of hangover, but being in the later stages of hangover meant that Ignis didn't consider himself fit to drive, so it was the bike, or walk. Gladio opted for the bike. Ignis suspected this was because his father loathed the bike almost as much as he seemed to dislike Ignis these days, and Gladio was in the mood for an argument.

They pulled up outside the Amicitia household, and Ignis gave Gladio a gentle squeeze before he released him and dismounted. “Have you decided?” He asked, once he and Gladio had removed their helmets.

“Stay here,” Gladio said. “If you come, he'll only want to speak to me alone later.”

Ignis nodded slowly. “I'll be right here, no matter what happens,” he said.

Gladio nodded, and leaned in to take a swift kiss from Ignis, filling Ignis's nose with the scent of leather. “I love you,” he said.

Gladio didn't wait for a reply as he made his way towards the door, and Ignis watched him go. “Gladio,” he called, before Gladio knocked on the door. Gladio turned to look at him. “Whatever may happen, whatever may be said, we'll be far away from their judgement in a few days. We don't know how long it may take us to return, or even if we will. Bear that in mind.”

Gladio looked at Ignis for a long moment, and then he nodded, and turned to the door. Ignis watched him walk inside, and then settled in to wait.

 

Clarus Amicitia was stood in the drawing room when Gladio was taken to him. Technically this was still his house, but he felt like a stranger here these days, and the staff treated him like a familiar guest more than a resident. He wondered if that was because he hadn't spent more than a handful of nights here in the last five years, or whether his father had something to do with it.

“Dad,” he said.

“Gladiolus,” came the reply.

Gladio waited, looking around. The house was familiar and yet not, these days. It was full of childhood memories, of easier times. “You wanted to talk to me,” he said, challenge in his tone already, “go on and talk.”

Clarus stood with his hands behind his back, looking at his son, his expression unreadable. “Your behaviour last night disgraced you.”

Gladio shrugged. “The guests were doing it,” he said. Marluxia had dragged Lumi onto the dancefloor, Nel had danced with Fang before she'd managed to get Cor to cut a rug. They weren't the only pair of dancers that had been of the same sex.

“The guests,” Clarus replied, sharply, “were not making the spectacle of themselves that you and the Scientia boy did.”

Gladio's upper lip curled. Dismissing Ignis as just a boy got his back up. “He's a man, dad,” he replied.

“As are you,” Clarus answered, “yet you insist on pursuing this juvenile infatuation.”

“Ju--” Gladio began, outrage flaring.

“It is time you grew up, Gladiolus.”

“Is that what you think this is?” Gladio snarled. “Seven damn years I've loved him,” he spat, brow furrowed and nose wrinkled, “you hadn't even known mom that long when you had me.”

“I don't care how long it has gone on, Gladiolus, it is time for it to stop.” Clarus wasn't implacable, but he was stubborn, and less swiftly turned to anger than Gladio. Where Gladio's outrage hammered, Clarus's words were cutting.

“He isn't a hobby I'm going to drop at your say so,” Gladio replied, his volume rising.

“He is a distraction from your duty,” Clarus replied, a bite in his own tone.

Gladio sneered. “I fulfil my duty just fine. We both agreed Noct comes first.”

“Your duty is not just to Prince Noctis,” Clarus said, his tone biting, and his eyes like steel. “It is to the Lucis Caelum line. Your Prince will have princes and princesses of his own, who will look after them?”

Gladio bared his teeth. “Iris is an Amicitia too, dad.”

Something shifted in Clarus's expression, a frown crossing his face briefly before it was chased away. “The duty falls to you, my son,” he said, a little more gently than he had been. “It is the unfortunate reality of being the King's Shield, Gladiolus.” Gladio made to reply, but was cut off. “I knew before you were born that the life of one of my children would be dedicated to the life of another. I knew that child would love their King, as I love mine, and that they would have to make sacrifices for them, and those sacrifices may include their life, or their happiness. There is _pride_ in being the Shield, my son, but there is pain too. The duty fell to you, and I know you love your Prince so that you would have it no other way. Would you now take away your sister's freedom in exchange for your own happiness?”

Gladio found his response died in his throat, and he huffed. “That's Iris's choice,” he said, after a moment, “not mine, and not yours.”

Clarus only gave a nod. “I don't pretend to understand your fascination with him, and I won't give you my support. I know soldiers find comfort in each other at times, and perhaps you are more akin to that than the usual,” he waved a hand searching for the right phrase and then plucking it from the air, “pubescent affairs of the Citadel. I do not begrudge you what happiness you can get while you may, but the time will come when continuing this relationship will hurt you, and your Prince. That is what I wish you to avoid.” He frowned at Gladio. “Last night's shameful display may have done irreparable damage to your reputation, and to his. He is the prospective Hand, Gladiolus, he will need his reputation even more than you when the time comes for the Prince to take the throne.”

“Don't pretend you're concerned for Ignis,” Gladio bit back, folding his arms.

“I am concerned for your Prince,” came the reply. “As you should be concerned for his eventual heirs.”

Gladio growled. “Noct's not even married,” he pointed out. “This stuff's a long way off.” A really long way off, if you'd ever met Noct. The kid still blushed at the mention of porn mags; if he ever got a girl naked, he'd keel over. Gladio would probably need Ignis to revive him from the shock, too. “We can work something out.”

“Perhaps so,” Clarus replied. “I ask only that you consider my words, Gladiolus, and the true nature of your duty.”

Gladio wrinkled his nose. “You done? 'Cause we leave in a few days.”

Clarus nodded, slowly. “When I see you next, we will not discuss this.” It was a promise, and it sounded like one. Gladio would be saying goodbye to his father, and his father would be saying goodbye to his son, and neither knew when they would see the other again. They didn't wish to part on bad terms.

 

Ignis greeted Gladio's return with a hand to his arm. “How was it?” He asked.

Gladio grunted. “Getting lectured is worse than arguing,” he said. “Duty, duty, duty, like I don't already know.”

Ignis gave Gladio a sad smile. “I expect I'll face a similar lecture from my own relatives, once they get wind.”

“So long as they don't try marrying you off again,” Gladio said, wrapping his arms around Ignis's waist and holding him close. They were in the street, in front of his house, and part of him hoped his dad was watching from a window. “He doesn't seem to think we can last,” he said, quietly, and defiantly.

“Well,” Ignis said, leaning back slightly so he could brush his fingertips over Gladio's cheek, “let's prove him wrong.”

Gladio grumbled, wordlessly. They were already doing a pretty good job at proving people wrong, as far as Gladio was concerned. “So what's on the agenda today?” He asked, changing the subject and leaning forward to press a nipping kiss to Ignis's lips.

“I'd rather like to find out what happened to Prompto,” Ignis said. “Noct still hasn't heard from him either.”

“Huh,” Gladio said, processing that information. “That's weird.” Then he thought about it, and about the fact that Prompto had been at the party last night. “Bet he's got his head in a toilet still.”

“In any case,” Ignis said, with a smile, “we should go and check on him. After that,” he said, “I believe we need camping supplies.”

Gladio grinned. “Today's getting better already.”


End file.
